


Under the Sea

by Wirewolf



Series: An Angstfest as told in Two parts (happy ending included) [1]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Ghost!Donald, Ghost!others, POV Second Person, Sad with a Happy Ending, bewarned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:39:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wirewolf/pseuds/Wirewolf
Summary: Inspired by a Tumblr post that I can't find.Della took the eggs with her on the Spear. This has unfortunate ramifications for everyone.(I'll be adding Tags as I go)





	1. Chapter 1

You know something’s wrong as soon as you come back to the mansion. The quiet coats the hallways, heavy and thick.

Usually after cooling down from an argument you find Della and either apologize or are apologized to. But this time, this time something makes you seek Scrooge first. 

You find him in front of a giant screen, fuzzing and popping with static. Its like there isnt enough air, something else takes its place. Scrooge is hunched over, head in his hands.

Where is she, you ask.

She wasnt suppose to find it, he replies, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

What little warmth is left in the room dissipates. The air thins even more.

Find what? You ask, not wanting to know the answer. Both because you need to now but also to see. To see if once again the duck before you has gone behind your back.

You had begged him not to indulge your sister. Her babies were almost here. Three little lives were about to begin. Why couldn't they see that that was the ultimate adventure coming just around the corner.

"She took The Sphere of Selene, she took the rocket."

You feel the anger inside you, start to bubble. 

"What about the boys, she's going to miss their hatching!"

The old ducks body seems to collapse in on itself. The 140ish year old looking his age.. That's when you know. Even before he says it.

"She took them with her. But Donald..."

You look where he glances. When everything starts to connect, everything goes black. 

Your family likes to joke about you inheriting both the Duck and McDuck temper. You've never found that particularly funny. The rage that burns through as you realise that your sister and uncle have yet again gone behind you back and ignored your warnings, hurts.

That your sister, encouraged by the man that raised you, took her unhatched eggs to the stars.

That your sister, not thinking about anything but adventure has gone where you can't follow. You couldn't keep her or her eggs safe. And they're gone.

You never truely recall the fight that you have with Scrooge. Its just flashes of screaming and yelling at each other. 

Later, you realise that most of the rage was grief in disguise. 

You leave. 

For the next two years you take odd jobs up and down the coast. Rarely returning to Duckberg except when Grandma pleads for you to visit.

Then comes The Storm. 

You love the sea. It fills the aching hole inside that your twin fit in. But what the sea gives, it can take away.

Your houseboat is and ex-tugboat. Its seen you though thick and thin. But its not a match for this.The gale comes from nowhere. Calm one second, winds blasting the next. You barely have time to tie everything down before the boat is being tossed by the waves.

It tries valiantly, chugging and straining to make it over the waves. For a while everything looks like youll make it. Battered and bruised but alive.

But then...

But then.

It's a monster that blocks the sky. Deep down as soon as you see it you know.

But you are Donald Duck. You still try. 

Your boat. The boat that your sister had helped build as you had helped build her beloved plane, makes it halfway up the wave. It tries so hard to see its captain home again. But nothing could have conquered this.

There's a moment of weightlessness and through the wind and the rain to your right you see the sun, bright and warm.

Then there's only water. You brust from the sea, gasping for air. Your home is there, listing on its side. It will not make it. But there's a life raft inside. You heave yourself up, fighting the battering waves and run through the waterlogged and capsize boat.

You burst into the living room and grab the raft. But then another wave hits and pushes the boat under. Water starts pouring in all around. Running to the door you push at it. But it's jammed. There's no light anymore. The water is up to your neck. You pound on the door. But it still wont open. With one last deep breath, there's not more air. Water is all that surrounds you. 

What had always been a source of comfort and peace now only brought fear and panic. You heave with everything you have….

But it's not enough. 

It burns that first breath of salt. 

Than it's just dark and cold.

Then nothing.

The next thing you're aware of, the sea is calm and moonlight is filtering through the water. You feel no fear, no pain. 

To be honest you don't feel much at all.

Fish surround you. Its peaceful. You turn, silt covering everything. But after years of finding temples and tombs you know how to recognize bones. They litter the enclosed area around you. 

Time doesn't have the same meaning anymore. You honestly will never be able to tell how long it took for you to realise those bones are yours.

To realise that you're dead. 

You do nothing. What is there to do. Your memories are fuzzing of what came before. You know your name and that you loved your family. But who your family is escapes you, and brings with it unwanted emotion. 

Its an effort to feel anything and family brings so many mixed emotion its exhausting.

So you sit on your sucken home and watch as new creatures make it theirs.

You like the dolphins best. They almost seem to know that you were another social creature. They click and play around you, darting in to pass you. 

Only once do you reach out, your hand phasing through them. It scares them away for awhile but they come back.

After a while you feel a tug. It gets stronger as time goes on til, you let it take you where ever it might lead.

You end up in a castle, a crypt with your name on it. Its dry though it doesn't stay that way, with the way your dripping sea water. You walk out the door leaving puddled footsteps behind. 

Finally arriving at a window you look out at the grounds. The mists dances in the breeze above it. You don't know where this is, though, it stirs something side you. Laughter echos in your minds but when you try and grasp it, it copies the mist outside. 

You return to the crypt. It's yours even if you don't recognise it. You settle down to wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its gonna get worse before it gets better.

The next thing that you're aware of is swearing.

You haven't heard anything except the ocean in an eternity it feels.

“Daft bludger, which one of you wee ones have done this now. Im too old to be chasing wee bairns, even if those wee bairns are….”

A old duck enter the crypt. Whatever he was saying trails off at the sight of you. Emotions flit across his face, settling on a deep sadness.

“Och lad, you poor poor wee lad. What happened?”

It's the first time anyone or things has addressed you in years. You open your mouth but no words come out. Water trickles out, almost taunting in it ease. You frown. You want to reply. You want to have a connection with the old duck. He fills you with a warm feeling with none of the messy other feelings.

You try again. More water pours out, splashing onto the already soaked ground. The old duck frowns in worry.

“Don't strain yourself lad. Its goin’ tae be fine”

But strain you do. You close your eyes and gather everything that's you into your centre, opening them you notice the lack of dripping. You try one last time.

“ Granda?”

Fergus McDuck has tears in his eyes as he approaches the ghostly form of his grandson.

“Aye lad. There you are. Gave me a right fright then, with all that seawater trekked through the house, here I was thinking it was those two wee hellions”

You frown. 

“Granda, Where am I?”

The old Duck clasps your hand. Its the first warm thing you've felt in years.

“Your in the family crypts in McDuck Castle on the Dismal Downs. Ye’ve been here before Lad, with your sister and Scrooge.”

That last name triggers so many emotions, very few of them good. The warmth of Fergus's hand is lost as it falls right through it. The Old duck backs away a few steps as water start pouring off you. Your shape twists and wavers as it changes.

Bone and ragged clothes take the place of your ghostly flesh. Only once has this happened before, when you pushed through the fatigue the thought of family brought. Rage and betrayal is all that had been found there, and that is all you feel now, at the utterance of that name.

“Donald, lad. Donald. DONALD!” 

The shouting eventually gets your attention. Though you don't know it, Fergus internally trembles at the site of his caring grandson, turned into a specter of the sea. 

Burning white pupils hover in the dark hollows in his skull, bleached by saltwater, seaweed draped over his bill. His beloved sailor shirt, a ragged and frayed shade of its former self, encrusted by salt and draped in kelp. Peeking through the torn side of the shirt, his ribs shone in the dark.

It's nothing that Fergus would ever wish on anyone, especially no one in his own family.

His grandson did not die a peaceful death. It shows in the form before him.

Thunder booms outside the Castle. A storm rolls angrily outside. 

“Now lad I need ye to calm down. I know that it's not fair what's happened but ye need to calm down Donald before ye bring the castle down on our heads.”

You look at Fergus, silence reigns for a few tense moments. Then, as fast as this form had appeared, it dissipates. Leaving you looking wet and bedraggled again. With on last glance at your grandfather, you flicker back to your houseboat beneath the sea.

It takes time, but you do return. How could you not? The Tugging never truly goes away and just the opportunity to finally talk to someone again is too much to ignore. 

He never utters That name again. Nor another that you know is missing but avoid thinking about. 

It comes close once. It's your third visit.

Most of the time, you seek your Grandfather out or your Grandmother. She had tears in her eyes the first time she saw you. You made the effort to be solid when she went to hug you. 

You've found that with practice you can stay solid and dry-looking for longer and longer. You are very glad to have that practice when Granda introduces them to you.

5 almost 6, you know their ages before you know their names. The Rage...no, The Storm boils inside you but this once, just this once you hold back. The Ghostly forms of your nephews before you are innocent of that and you have no wish to scare them with the ghoul you become when you embrace the Maelstrom inside you.

The one in red stands before you, brave and bold, to introduce himself, encouraged by the smiling old duck beside him. The Green one, stands behind him, unsure what to make of the ghostly Uncle that's appeared before them.

“I’m Huey Duck and this is Louie. And I guess that makes you our Uncle Donald?”

Its a title that you never expected to hear, those dreams dashed in a mansion on a hill, an ocean away. But when Huey calls you that the tugging stops. 

In its place is a rope or chain, either would work, tying you to these two ducklings. They may be dead, but they still need you. With tears in your eyes instead of salt water for the first time in years, you crouch down and open your arms.

“I rather suppose it does.”

First Huey runs into the hug and a second later Louie does the same. Its warm in that embrace and you begin to notice how much the sea has eaten away at your edges. But that can wait, for now, you need to get to know the two boys who look at you with hope and love in their eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've figured out how to pull this sadfest into a hopefully emotionally satisfying happy ending. 
> 
> I was going for a PoC kinda vibe with the losing his shit Donald, think a cross between the skeletons and bootstrap bill.


	3. Chapter 3

As the years pass, you stop returning to your boat as often. Sometimes the yearning for the cold peace of it is too much to ignore, but for the most part the boys keep you busy and happy. You don’t remember being this happy. The sea that's become such a huge part of you as you sat beneath the waves, retreats at the warmth and love you feel for those boys. 

It never truly leaves. It claimed you after all, but the part of you that was Donald Duck, begins to resurface. Its both a blessing and a curse. Because now you have to deal with the fact that you died. And from what you gather from your grandparents, no-one knows that.

That your Grandma and cousins think that you just left and decided to never come back. That Gladstone doesn’t have anyone to ground him and that Fethry thinks that you abandoned him. The despair at those thoughts brings the smell of salt and rotting kelp.

Being dead means in some ways the boys know things. And they can tell when you’re dwelling on things that you can't fix. That's when the mischief starts. Ghostly flour traps and tripwires will appear around the Castle, too immaterial to both the living residents but perfect to catch an uncle unawares. 

Their laughter when you're standing covered in flour, pulls you out of your dark thoughts and goads you into chasing them through the halls. The bemused looks on Granda and Nanna’s face flash past as you chase the rascal’s through walls and halls, right behind them, but never fast enough to catch them.

They’re good boys. Granada must have talked to them before introducing them to you because they never ask about them. It bother saddens you and makes you happy, while hating that happiness. You never want to show the boys that side of you, the pain and rage that whirls inside like the maelstrom that comes with it. But while they’re your boys, they’re hers too. But even thinking about that only leads to grief and so much rage.

Because there were three eggs all those years ago, and your sister isn't here either.

Which means she survived. And one of the eggs did too. You can’t think about that long because it just leads to the fact that your boys, your beautiful boys are here with you instead. 

Dead like you, without even a short life behind them. It hurts so much the first time you make the connections you go to the houseboat and pour every bit of rage into the sea. It's considered the one of the worst storms the Calisota coast has seen in a century.

You don't ever leave like that again. The fear and worry in Huey’s and Louie's eyes and their whispered fears of you not returning makes you promise them that.

Your control gets better. There are still days when everything is wet and you leave puddles of seawater in your wake, having to use sign to talk to the boys and your grandparents, but for the most part you stay warm, dry and solid enough for the boys. Being solid for the living is harder but you are able to give your Nanna a hug every now and then.

Time passes and the boys grow. You suspect it's because of their third but don't mention it because what would be the point. Without the tugging you’d still be at the bottom of the ocean, and when asked the boys say that they don't feel anything like that. Castle McDuck is cut off from the world except for every five years so they can't leave, not to mention that as far as you know, your sister may be alive but she's not anywhere you can get.

Its five years since the walls of the Castle McDuck curse thinned enough for you to slip through and establish a connection. Five years since the last contact of the outside world. Five years since you met your nephews. With the passing of the time, the raw edges of grief and rage have dulled, not completely gone for you cannot forgive that what was done to your boys but still dulled.

So when He comes, followed by a boy in blue and a girl in purple and pink, you don't run out to confront him. You don't rage at him, for what he did behind your back, for breaking your trust in him as your family (as your father). 

You tell the boys to be gentle with the other kids (their brother, but even now you can't bring yourself to say anything) and then walk back to your crypt, watery footsteps trailing behind you and running down where you pass through walls.

It's nothing to go back to your boat. Maybe if she had been there, it would have been to much to contain. Rage, and grief and little bit of hate would have caused a storm to tear the Castle of your clan apart.

You don't like that there's hate when you think of your sister. But being a ghost means that your emotions are most of what you are, and that little bit of hate burns in you like an ember.

Because that same little bit blames your sister for everything. It was easier to hate Scrooge while you were alive and she was dead. But after all that she has put your family through she gets to live. She gets to watch her living son grow up, she gets to visit their Grandma and Cousins, she gets to have a life. 

Even his precious boys are technically hers, sure to prefer their living Mother to their dead Uncle, once they meet her.

Your sister, who you loved more than anything on this earth has taken everything from you. But that hate never grows to more than an ember. Because your sister is alive and nothing in this or the next world would ever wish your fate on her. Because after everything she’s your other half, and you love her.

As you sit on the sunken bow of your boat, watching the reef that started up around its broken body, you think of what's to come.

Were once so much rage and grief sat, now all you feel is tired. The boys will figure it out, that the boy in blue is thier missing piece. You want them to figure it out. But when they do they will want to follow their brother into the big outside world. And you’ll be alone again. But this time, you don't have the rage and heat to keep the ocean from consuming everything that you have left.

It will be the end. 

You don't know how to feel about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not completely happy with this but I couldn't figure out what was the problem. 
> 
> Come say Hi if you want on Tumblr, Im Nos4ay2 over there.
> 
> Also just to reassure everyone again, Happy ending is on its way... there's just a lot these guys are going to go through to get there.


	4. Chapter 4

You lose track of time. The days blur together until you're unsure how long you’ve been down here.

You had returned to the crypt when the tugging had started again, to see the boys off on their new adventure. The two living children had drawn back when you appeared. It was unfortunate but understandable. 

Seeing a drowned duck, even a pale ghostly one would have been disconcerting , the boys use to it after years of exposure (but he had kept his promise to himself. They had never seen the form that sometimes loomed in their Grandfathers mind)

The girl seemed to be more shocked than the Boy. His boys had proudly introduced their new friends and were excited to tell him about the discovery of the third triplet. 

He just hadn't had it in him to pull himself together so , he had signed that it was nice to meet them.

The boys had gotten sheepish then, looking at the ground and stopping and starting, trying to ask something. You’d known as soon as the boy, Dewey, had stepped out of the Jeep that this was coming.

You crouched in front of your responsible, level-headed Huey and sneaky, charming Louie, dripping but his boys had never been repulsed by the water that came with you.

>You want to go with them< you signed.

“We’ll come back, but it sounds so cool and interesting and we just wanna met..,” it comes out in a rush before trailing off, as Huey stands before him shoulders hunched, unsure how to express himself without hurting you.

You tug the two of them into a hug. Pulling back, you place a kiss on each of their foreheads..

>I hope you find what you're looking for. But remember, the living have more rules than us. So you have to be gentle with your brother and Webby.<

The two high-five before Huey turns to the other children to explain. 

Louie, however comes back for another hug. 

“You’ll be ok, right? If you need us, you’ll come find us and we’ll all be together,” he whispers into your wet jacket.

Your Louie has alway been the more sensitive of the two, and from how Dewey seems, he would have been the most sensitive out of all three of them in a different world.

Giving him a squeeze, you bring your hand between the two of you, 

>I’ll be fine. I have Granda and Nanna and The Boat. But if either of you ever need me, you call. I don’t care what its for but if you call I will come. I promise.<

Reaching behind the tomb, into the bag that had been ignored for years you pull out the spirit form of your old hat. The rest of the contents had long since rotted away from the repeated exposure to seawater, but the hat had survived. 

Passing it to his youngest, you squeeze his hands, and give him a smile.

Louie, with tears in his eyes, smiled and shoved the hat into his hoodie pocket.

After that, the children had left. You hadn’t stayed long after that, saying goodbye to your grandparents, with repeated assurances that you’d be back.

But know you go back to your Boat.

You feel loose. The fish that once shied away from you, now just swim right on through. It's only been a week, and you miss those boys so much. They'd been a light in the dark, a shining lighthouse to call you home from the sea. 

You drift, like you did those lonely cold years before the boys.

Until….

The Binding that links you with your kids comes to life, full of fear and desperate want for you. Its so much stronger than anything you’ve felt in years.

Your kids are scared and most likely in danger. 

And that? That is not allowed. 

You’ve never deliberately called the Maelstrom before. It tears at you, but the power is intoxicating. 

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced dead or alive. You feel so full.

Whatever is happening on the other side of your bond, you know one thing.

You’re going to enjoy this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Halfway through this, my Pov changed by accident. I think I fixed it, but let me know if you see any mistakes.
> 
> Next chapter is probs gonna be 2 weeks away as its got a fight scene, and I can already tell its gonna be trouble.
> 
> *Edited for the mistakes you guys picked up. Thanks.


	5. Interlude - Huey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, not the showdown that a lot of you were looking for but take this weird terrible revelation interlude instead.

It had been so exciting at first. Seeing the rest of their family and bonding with their brother. Despite having played in the Treasure of the Templars all their unlife, Louie had been enamoured with the world's richest Duck. 

You, however, can't let sleeping dogs lie. You've protected Louie for so long, been his ‘older’ brother that its an almost unconscious decision to leave him out of your snooping.

Uncle Donald has never talked about the rest of your family. The days that Granda and Nanna referenced them, in that faint time when he wasn’t Uncle Donald but someone new, he had always been extra drippy. Faint memories of a Gale of wind and rain accompanies those recollections but only as a faint addon to the sad wet duck that was your Uncle.

You and Louie know that there was more to the tale of how you ended up in McDuck castle, dead before you were even born, but even as ghost children, you can tell that asking your Uncle for the story would be cruel.

So when your Brother (warm and living and you can't help but feel jealous of the life that he gets when the two of you are just spirits, echoes of what could have been) arrives, bring with him the chance for answers of your past and the how of your existence, you jump on it. 

The hardest thing is leaving Uncle Donald. He does worse than forbid it. He supports your search, though you have a suspicion that he thinks you're looking to meet your mother. And Louie is, curious to meet the person who in another life would have raised them.

But you don’t feel anything. You don’t know if that's a side-effect of dying in the egg, or just who you are but you aren’t interested in the mother-who-wasn’t. You want answers to what happened, both to the two of you and why your Uncle is always wet unless he makes a conscious effort and he sometimes has such a broken, lost look of his face when he thinks no one's watching.

You think you’ll find a newspaper clipping or a ‘internet’ article (and wasn’t that an interesting day, Dewey and Webby showing them how to use the computer. Dewey had laughed, which made Louie phased through a wall to startle him as payback) informing the unfortunate passing of the two out of three eggs of Della Duck. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a natural sad occurrence. 

But you find nothing. No obituaries, nothing. Until you come across an article dated 6 months ago. 

“Della Duck - Miracle return from the Moon”

You know your mother had been on the moon. Dewey loves to talk about growing up, with the artificial gravity and how much better the food down here was. It would seem none of the Duck brothers were destined for a normal childhood.

But it hadn’t clicked until you start reading that your mother, hadn’t given birth to the three of you up there.

You had been eggs, taken up to see the stars. Except two had never come back down. 

There's no more information to be found. The specifics of how you died lies with a woman who, now that you think on it, hasn’t been alone with either of you since you had appeared behind your brother when he got back to McDuck Manor.

She was the reason that He and Louie would never truly grow up. When he went looking for answers, he had been prepared for a lot of things, failure to thrive, weak immune systems. But not this. Never this.

You should be raging, the McDuck/Duck temper that Uncle Donald liked to joke was the only thing he got from him, boiling in your gut and mind.

Instead, there's this pit in your chest that just sucks everything away. You feel nothing.

‘Shock,’ you think.

‘I’m in Shock’.

Sitting in the corner of the library, hiding for who knows how long, your solitude is broken by Louie appearing in front of you.

You open your beak, but nothing comes out. How do you share something like this?

Louie waves his hand before you can say anything. 

“Bro, we have a problem. They don’t know Uncle Donald's’ Dead.”

Well, that's going to be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also sorry about the wait, can't promise quicker updates either. Between last update and now I've had to fight my hospital, win, and mentally prepare for my upcoming open heart surgery (hopefully happening end of Nov end of Dec fingers crossed.) and turns out writing about death and sadness is only cathartic to a point. That said it is very cathartic. 
> 
> Enough sadsackery hope this was an ok interlude as I try and write the damn action scene. Next chapter is another interlude and hopefully, by then, I should also have pretty much the next real chapter sorted.


	6. Interlude - Louie

It's one thing to know you’re related to the Richest Duck in the world, it's another to actually see the wealth that sits in the famous Money Bin.

Scrooge is a little wary at first, unsure as to what to make of this ghost of a nephew. But the initial coldness soon melts into a warm acceptance. 

From what you can tell, no one else really has that lust for treasure that the two of you share. Scrooge is happy to have someone else to regale with his amazing feats and spoils of his victories. You’re happy to hear more of the world that has been denied you for 10 years. 

You know Huey’s up to something. He may be the ‘older’ brother but of the two you've always been the more observant. 

It doesn't take long to pick up on the underlying tension the Duck who is (was?) your mother carries with her everytime the both or one of you are around. 

When you first arrived you would have thought that she was of the realm of the dead. Blood leaving her face, leaving the feathers dull and limp, hands shaking as she whispered your names. Your full names, that personally you hate.

But still, this was your mother. You thought she’d be happy to see you. But you’ve been here a week and she hasn’t really talked to you, either of you.

Huey acts like that doesn’t bother him, but the tightness around his eyes whenever she comes up, shows the lie for what it is.

After a few more attempts that end in failure, trying to make a connection, anything to talk to your mother, you give it up for a lost cause.

You don’t know why it causes her such pain to see the two of you but you are not cruel. You leave her alone and instead start to try and find out more about your uncle.

The Internet turns up scant information. From what you can tell, 10 years ago the internet wasn’t as much of a hub of the world as it seems to be now.

You find a few archived newspaper articles about the apparent desertion of the McDuck Heir a few years after your death day, but that's it.

No obituary, no memorial.

It's almost like either Donald Duck hadn’t existed or had never died.

It’s odd. It seems like the world thinks, your family thinks, Donald's off somewhere enjoying life after abandoning his family.

You don't want to believe this theory but when you mention finding a photo of a third duck beside Scrooge and Della the comradery you share with Scrooge seems to cool.

A deserter, he says voice cold but eyes full of sadness. But it's not grief. The voice nor the eyes carry the knowledge of death.

Scrooge doesn’t know his nephew drowned 8 years ago, alone out at sea.

And if Scrooge doesn’t know, no one knows.

You don’t know how to really take this, so you reply with a simple ‘oh’, and move on.

Later, when you are able to get away without arousing suspicion you go to find your brother.

Whatever happens, at least you’ll deal with it together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm alive. YAY. Before anything else, I wanted to say thank you to everyone who ever commented on this fic. On the really shitty days, it was nice to read nice things about my writing and well wishes. An especially massive thank to WhisperWillYou for drawing my first ever fan art, which as I've said before and will say again is absolutely amazing. (found here - http://whisperwillyou.tumblr.com/post/180285379721/ive-been-in-the-mob-psycho-fandom-for-how-many )
> 
> Health update - I'm healing well, and dealing with the changes that healing brings. Also dealing with the mental side of it which admittedly is a bit harder than healing a broken sternum. 
> 
> Also a big thanks to adamarinayu for beta reading it.
> 
> There's probs gonna be another interlude featuring the 1 living Duck child. Because Louie wanted to give his side of things and not progress the story. The Action chapter in over half done though so progress is being made on that front.


End file.
